Drugged (Working title) part 1, a short story by casmad. Times viewed: 385

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Intro: (contains drug references and coarse language) a young man addicted to alcohol and marijuana, comes to find himself in the middle of some gruesome murders.(this is a work in progress, and is unfinished. any and all comments are welcome!)

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1.
It was July, 2001. a summer I would never forget for as long as I lived.

There had been a terrible heat wave threatening the small town of MillersPond where I lived that year.
Some of the older residents had said it was the worst one they seen in over fifty years. The oldest, Abe Simms, said it might have been the worst in eighty years. Abe, being ninety-five at the time. Was sharp as a tack, and bright as the sun itself.
I'll be lucky to live half as long, and be one-third the man he is. I thought. (I was twenty-one at the time.)

I had a terrible addiction to booze, and marijuana. I drifted from job to job, and town to town, trying to find myself. Not realizing, the person I would find was one better left undiscovered, or so I thought.

My troubles began on a Monday; I remember it like it was yesterday. I worked in a local box factory, I ran the peeler, loading the cantankerous old machine and guiding the thin sheets of skin that it peeled from the logs, like wide shavings from a pencil.
It wasn't a bad job, as repetitive as it was, I didn't mind it. The pay sucked, and there were a few people I could have done without, but all in all it wasn't bad.

The person I liked the least, was Jerry Brown.
He was in his thirties, and very outspoken. He never seemed to know when to shut his foul, crooked mouth, and he always smelt of stale piss, and cheap wine.
Jerry enjoyed harassing the young girls, and anyone who he felt would not try standing up to him. He had a way of knowing who these people were, he could smell their fear it seemed.

His victim of choice was Tony ‘The Boney' Sears.
Tony was a little on the slow side, but he kept the factory spotless, and was harmless as a mouse. (He also supplied me with wicked dope!) He talked with a stutter, and Jerry would poke fun constantly.

"Hey Boney!" He shouted.
"How's your m... m... mommy today?"
"Sh... sh... she's g... g... good thanks f... f... for asking."
Tony replied, oblivious to the mockery.
"Yeah, that's no surprise. After all, I did her for hours last night; she moaned liked a true whore."
Delighted with himself, Jerry broke out in that shrill laugh of his. To me and most everyone else there, it was as pleasant as nails on a chalkboard.

"Why don't you fuck off and just do your job."
Shouted Amy Willis.
Amy was one of the few people who wouldn't take any shit from no one, especially a putrid limp-dick like Jerry.
"Oh yeah? How about you and I go around back, and you can suck my dick Sweetheart?"
Jerry replied from across the room.
"Gee, that's a tempting offer, but for that to happen I'd have to be able to find your dick, assuming you even have one."
"Fuck you bitch!"

That was all he could say, the factory broke out in cheer and laughter, and Jerry's face went red as he stormed out the door, looking back once to ‘flip her the bird'

I shot a wink at Amy, she smiled.
I had a lot of respect for the girl, and she was a hottie.
Her copper hair glistened under the fluorescent lights, and she always smelt like citrus, her body wash I assumed. Yummy.

My shift ended at 4 p.m. that day. I was more than happy to get to my car and spark up a doob.
The sweet aroma set my mind at ease, and the troubles of the day slipped further away, with every puff I took.

 

 

2.
My little one bedroom apartment was drab and lonely. I hated it there. I sometimes wondered if depression had a face, if this is what it might look like. Empty and stale, with a cloud of second hand smoke in the air.

After grabbing a quick lunch, I knocked back a few beer, and smoked a couple grams of high quality hydro. Not that cheap shit the little punks sold on the corner down town, but grade ‘a' ganja. (The kind that sets you on your ass after a couple puffs.)I don't know where he got it, but Tony had good shit!
I lay on the tattered couch, and drifted off. I was stoned again.

I woke up around seven-thirty the next morning.
My head was still spinning from the night before. How much had I smoked? I wondered.
I sat up and waited for my eyes to focus. Looking down, I notice my hands dripping in blood.
Shocked, I ran to the bathroom to wash it off and check myself over, expecting to find a large wound somewhere on my body. There was none.
My clothes, however, were also covered in the brown-red stains of dried blood. Where had it come from? What did I do?
I quickly tore the clothes off, and stuffed them in the garbage and proceeded to shower the filth from my skin. However, not before taking a moment to vomit violently in the open toilet.

3.
I randomly flipped through the TV stations, thinking about the bloody mess from earlier.
I stopped flipping when my attention was drawn to a news bulletin on one of the local networks. (CBC I think.) The banner read - LOCAL MAN BRUTALLY MURDERED BY UNKNOWN ASSAILANT.
I turned the volume up. My jaw dropped and a cold chill ran down my spine when the reporter said his name. It was Jerry Brown.
"Shit!" I said.
"Could I have... no, I couldn't have. Could I?"
My mind raced, could I have done that? If I did, how? I don't remember a thing.

The feeling of stomach acid rising up my throat had returned. I took a deep breath, and the feeling passed.
Then I thought of work, I don't really want to go in, but it might look suspicious if I don't.
Just then the phone rang, I wouldn't have to worry about work today, it was my boss. The factory was shutting down for the day in remembrance of Jerry.
Lucky break, I thought.

My nerves were rattled, I needed a joint. I grabbed my little bag of goodies from a desk drawer, and lit up.
My worries were settled, for now.

4.
Night had come again. I tried hard all day to remember anything I could from the night before, but all I could remember, was passing out.

I was tired, and my head hurt. I didn't even feel like toking tonight, I decided to sleep instead.

Morning came quickly. I woke at my usual time, and got ready for work, it was going to be a long day, I thought.

The smell of sap, and machine oil flooded my nose as I strolled innocently across the rough concrete floor to my workstation.
I didn't want to be here, but I had to.
"Just act normal and things will be fine."
I kept telling myself.
There was a somber mood at the factory that day, except for Tony, that was. He carried on about his business as he always did, and why not? He probably didn't understand what had happened anyway. He walked over and politely said - "Hello, T... Tom."
"Hello." I replied.

I managed to survive another shift. Time seemed to pass a lot faster than I had thought it would, good deal. Walking to my car, I could hear a commotion on the far side of the lot. I looked around to see Carl Shiers (Jerry's best and probably only friend.) shouting at Amy. He seemed pissed. I couldn't quite make out what he was shouting about, but I was sure it was something to do with Jerry.
Amy turned to walk away, but he grabbed her and slapped her face. It had to hurt; I could hear the echo from where I stood, Tony was also watching.
"Hey!" I shouted.
"What the hell are you doing?"
I ran to them and grabbed Carl around the chest, he tried to break loose but could not.
"This bitch!" He cried.
"She did it. I don't know how but she is responsible for what happened to Jerry!"
"Calm down." I told him.
"You're talking foolish. What makes you think she did it?"
"I overheard her telling one of her skanky friends, how she wanted to kill him. Then that night... well, he was dead."
He was shaking with rage. His eyes welling with tears.
Amy looked on, shocked by the situation at hand.
"I never killed anyone!"
She cried, tears now streaming down her face.
"Listen, Carl. Amy is a smart girl; do you honestly think that she would have said that if she actually planned on killing him? Think about it."
"Well, no, I guess not."
He murmured, trying to wipe his eyes.
I had let go of him by this point, figuring he was calm enough now.

He shot a dirty look at the two of us, then turned and ran off to his car. Stopping for a moment, he looked back at Amy and threatened to kill her if he found out she really did have anything to do with the murder of his friend.
Amy was trembling with fear, and her face had begun to swell a bit from the slap she had disrespectfully received.
"You gonna be okay?" I asked.
"Yeah. I'll be fine. He is such an asshole."
"I agree with you there." I said with a smile.
She returned the smile. My god she was pretty. I thought to myself.
"Thank you so much for helping me out. God knows what he would have done if you hadn't come to my rescue."
"Hey, don't worry about it. I was just doing what I felt needed to be done." I said.
"Well, if there is anything I can do to make it up to you, please just let me know."
There was a ‘please, do me' sound in her voice. I chuckled at the thought. (Not letting her notice, by the way.)
"Well, you don't have to, but if you would like to catch a movie and dinner with me some night, that would be nice."
I said. Kind of taking advantage of the situation.
"I'd like that!" She answered. Her eyes cutting deeply into mine.
"Great! How's Friday, say around seven?"
"Works for me." She said.

I smiled and she headed to her car, flashing me one last ‘thank you' look.
Despite recent events, I was ecstatic. I had a smile from ear to ear, I couldn't believe I finally had a date with little Amy Willis! I threw a fist in the air in celebration, then without missing a beat, spun around to make sure she hadn't seen me. She didn't.

Tony was standing by my car when I came back.
"W... w... what w... was tha... that about?" He asked.
"Oh nothing Tony." I said.
"Don't worry about it. Say Tony, do you have anymore of that good stuff left?"
"Y... y... yes, would y... y... you like me t... t... to bring some ov...over lata?"
"That would be cool." I told him.
"N... n... no problem Tommy."
He said. (Except it sounded more like - n... n... no pwobwem Twommy.)
I seemed to find myself amused every time he would speak. It was like he had a foreign accent or something. I never made fun of him or anything; I just thought it was different. In addition, I kept that opinion to myself.
"I'll see you later Tony." I said, getting into my car.
"Oh, and if I happen to be asleep, just leave it on my desk, I'll leave some money there for you as well."

5.
I ate my supper and doused it with a few beer. Well, more like an eight-pack. After that, I decided I would finish off the last of the weed I had and go to bed.

Morning came once again. I noticed Tony had stopped by the night before; there was a fresh bag of green perched on my desk.
I cautiously looked myself over, checking to see if I had any blood on me today. I did not see any.
My bladder throbbed, I don't remember getting up to piss throughout the night, strange, and considering the amount of empty beer cans spread across the floor.
I stumble toward the bathroom. I don't believe it, my head feels dizzy. That is odd, I'm sure I fell asleep quite early, around eight I think. I shouldn't feel like this, any booze, or THC should have worn off by now.
I squat down to settle my head, that's when I notice something, something I did not want to see.
Blood and lots of it. My work boots were covered in it. I knew it wasn't there before, I would have seen it when I put them on yesterday.
That cold chill was back, except this time it went all the way down through my legs, I felt nauseous.
Springing to my feet, I can see a trail of blood leading from the door, to the bathroom. My face flushed to a pale white, I could feel myself wanting to faint, but I resisted, I had to see what was at the end of the liquid trail.
Cautiously, I pushed open the bathroom door; the paint-covered hinges creaked as the door gave way to red walls and fixtures. The room was covered in blood.
"Oh my god!"
I gasped. Not believing what I saw.
"This can't be! This can't be god damn it!" I shouted with tears in my voice.
I entered the room with caution, being careful not to slip in the puddles of blood that spread across the floor like syrup on waffles.
My hand reached out to the shower curtain and drew it open.
I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass; I was not ready to see what hid behind curtain number one.
Carl Shiers's body was propped up in the back corner of the tub. His chest had been ripped open, and his heart lay loosely in the palms of his overturned hands.

I couldn't help myself, I couldn't hold it back, Vomit spewed everywhere, and I was in a panic, my heart raced and beads of sweat poured off my face. What the fuck was I going to do?

I sat lifelessly in the corner of the bathroom, my head between my knees rocking back and forth. Once again, I couldn't remember a thing from last night.
Then I remembered Amy. I finally get a date with her only to discover I'm a murderer. I didn't believe it, I couldn't. However, what other explanation was there? I thought
"Tony." I said.
"Tony was here last night. I wonder if he saw anything? I have to talk to him."
First, I knew would have to clean up this mess. I don't know what I would do with the body, but I at least had to clean the rest of it up.

I cleaned up the blood and bagged the dirty towels. I left Carl where he was then I left to find Tony.

6.
Luckily, today was Tony's day off so he was easy to find. He was at his favorite coffee shop. He spent most of his days off hanging out there chatting with anyone who was willing.

"Tony." I called out.
He acknowledged me and I waved him over.
"Hey Twommy." He said.
"Hey Tony. Tony, what time did you stop by last night?"
"Umm... I tink it w... w... was around e... e... eleven, why, d... d... did I do some... something wong?" He asked, sounding nervous.
"No, not at all!" I said.
"I was just wondering if I was there when you came in."
"Yes. You were sl... sl... sleeping on the s... sofa. I didn't want to w... wake you."
He said, fiddling with his hands.
"Okay, thanks Tony." I said, and walked away.
"Is everything alright Twommy?"
"I don't know yet." I replied, and then continued on my way.

I never even made it back to my car when I heard someone running behind me. Paying no attention, I continued to my car. Reaching for the door latch, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I turned to see Tony standing there.
"Do you think you could drive me to my house?"
He asked. Strange, I thought he didn't even stutter once. Whatever, I thought and agreed to do so.
He only lived a few minutes away and I figured it was the least I could do for him.

After dropping Tony off, I rushed back to the apartment hoping for an idea of what to do with Carl's body.

 

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